


Fanfiction

by bzarcher



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blindfolds, Collars, Confessions, Crack, Descriptions of BDSM, Emily has a secret habit, F/F, Fanfiction, Femslash, Lemon Tea, Masturbation, Nobody Is Who They Say They Are On The Internet, Podfic Welcome, Power Exchanges, Reaper is SO DONE with everyone, Sex Toys, Sombra has a secret vice, Spiderbyte, Team Talon, WidowTracer (Well....sort of.), Writing, internet chats, internet friendships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:03:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9627362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher
Summary: Sombra has a guilty pleasure: "Spider Time" RPF fanfic that happens to involve her girlfriend and her nemesis, the Overwatch agent called Tracer.Emily has a guilty pleasure: Writing "Spider Time" fanfic about her girlfriend and the Talon sniper known as Widowmaker.





	1. Chapter 1

_Widowmaker approached her captive nemesis, lightly running a finger over the narrow collar she had buckled around the younger woman’s throat. “You_ want _this, don’t you?”_

_Tracer whimpered under her cool touch, the Overwatch Agent’s dark honey eyes filled with desperate, longing need. “Yes, mistress…”_

_She considered her bound prey, thrilling at how delectable she looked in such a vulnerable position. Her ridiculous outfit stripped away, ankles shackled at either end of the steel bar that held her legs open, carefully knotted ropes wrapping around her waist before rising to bind her modest breasts, and her hands carefully cuffed behind her back._

_If she didn’t enjoy hearing the cries she could tease from those rose petal lips so much, the only thing she might consider adding would be a gag._

_“So tell me,_ ma petite chien _, what you want so badly…?”_

 _Tracer’s voice was thick with desire as she begged for what she so desperately needed. “Touch me, mistress. Use me, mistress. Make me scream for you,_ _please_ _, mistress!”_

_Widowmaker’s golden eyes narrowed as she stepped forward, pinching and then twisting one of her slave’s nipples, drawing a moan that blended both pain and pleasure. “I know you can beg more convincingly than th_

“Em? I’m back!”

Emily blinked in surprise as she heard the door to their flat close, looking at the clock on her computer’s desktop in surprise: 7:15pm

 _Shit!_ Where had the last four hours gone?

Saving the WIP document and hiding her word processor, she stood up just as Lena called for her again.

“Emily? Are you home, luv?”

“Sorry,” she called as she came out of the spare room she’d turned into a home office, “I lost track of time!”

Lena’s head poked out into the hallway from the kitchen, eyebrows raised. “Oh? Work keeping you busy?”

Emily smiled as she walked over to greet her girlfriend properly with a kiss. “Something like that. Everything go alright for you?”

Lena Oxton, aka the “unauthorized vigilante” known as Tracer, shrugged as she undid the buckles of the Chronal Accelerator that allowed her to perform so many amazing and heroic feats, hanging it on a hook they’d installed next to the pantry. “Yeah, well enough. Sent the baddies packing and got everyone home safe, so that’s all right.”

Emily frowned thoughtfully as she considered that answer. “You don’t sound that happy about it.”

“Well,” Lena admitted with a sigh, “chasing them off’s not the same as catching them, is it? And when Winston got a chance to look over the data we were trying to retrieve, it looks like that hacker wiped half the files.” Pulling off her goggles, Lena ran a hand through her unruly hair before shaking her head. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing any good at all.”

Emily gently placed a freckled hand on her lover’s cheek. “Lena.” When Lena looked up to make eye contact, she offered a warm, tender smile. “You’re doing good, ok? You care so much, sometimes when nobody else does, and you do everything you can. You’re a hero, you’re _amazing_ and you help so many people. Don’t you ever doubt that, all right?”

Lena turned her lover’s hand over and gently brushed her lips over the knuckles, and Emily felt her heart melt all over again. “Thanks, luv. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Then let’s make sure we never have to find out,” Emily agreed, then pointed to the couch, “why don’t you finish getting changed and relax a bit, and I’ll put the kettle on.”

“Sounds brilliant to me,” Lena agreed, taking the accelerator in one hand before she turned around with a particular gleam in her eye, “but you know...I get pretty sweaty after running around in all this gear all day.”

Emily turned, keeping her expression carefully bland. “Oh, do you?”

“Mmmhmm.” Lena’s eyes danced as she pulled the zipper of her Shearing jacket down just enough to expose the white top she was wearing beneath. “Might need a shower. Think you could help me out?”

Emily grinned, picking the goggles up from their kitchen table, then walked back towards their bedroom, putting a little sway in her hips as she bumped past Lena in the hall. “Oh, I suppose I could manage…”

“So,” Lena asked later as she relaxed on the couch with a cup of tea in her hands, “what was your day like?”

Emily snorted as she came in from the kitchen with her own mug. “The exciting life of a freelance technical writer, mostly. Researching a couple of articles, writing a bit, wasting time on Tumblr…” Grinning, she wedged herself down onto a cushion, making Lena shift on the couch to give her room to sit. “Budge over, you!”

Giggling, Lena pushed herself up against the arm of the couch, then swung her bare feet over, resting them in the redhead’s lap. “I know it sounds silly, but it’s _nice_ to hear that. It’s good to remember that there’s still normal life out there.”

“As opposed to having Christmas Dinner with a giant gorilla scientist and his computer girlfriend?”

Lena reached to tap their mugs together with a smile. “Well, that’s pretty normal for _me_ …”

* * *

Two days later, Emily started her day by hitting the **publish** button on her latest bit of RPF, feeling only slightly guilty about how happily she shipped her _actual girlfriend_ with the woman who was, as far as she could tell, Lena’s super villain counterpart, then closed the browser window and went back to her latest freelance job with a sigh. As fun as the smut writing was, it didn’t pay her bills, so it was time to spend a little time describing the fascinating world of reverse osmotic water purification pumps…

Half a world away, Sombra had just been considering heading to bed when a glowing window popped into existence in front of her, a bright red alert exclamation mark grabbing her attention.

  * **TheCavalrysQu33r** has posted “ _The Widow’s Dog”_



_Ooo._

Grabbing the window with her augmented hand, she twirled her fingers to expand it, following the link to AO3 and grinning as she began to read.

“Oh, that’s hot…”

 _Widowmaker chuckled as her pet obediently waited for her to release her hands and ankles, then fell to her hands and knees, bowing her head without being told to assume the submissive posture. “You_ _are_ _a good little dog, aren’t you,_ chérie?”

_Tracer kept silent, and Widowmaker looked down at her with approval, an electric current of desire running through her body. She stepped behind her little pet, and gently teased one cool finger along the damp warmth of her lover, reveling in the contrast between her coarse brown curls and the satin slickness beneath._

_“Good little dogs deserve a reward for doing what they’re told…”_

“Sombra?”

_¡Cojeme!_

Rapidly flicking the window away before her lover could see what she’d been reading, Sombra swiveled her chair around, putting on as innocent a smile as she could manage. “Right here, gorgeous.”

Amélie Lacroix (or, when she was on the clock, ‘Widowmaker’) stood in the doorway looking deeply unimpressed, arms crossed over her sheer black nightgown. “You told me that you were coming to bed an hour ago.”

_Oops._

“Sorry, _mi cielo_. I was digging around and lost track of time.”

Amélie snorted, rolling her eyes. “Ah, of course. More of your…’shitposting’?”

“Not exactly,” Sombra hedged as she stood up, pushing herself up on the tips of her toes for a kiss with the taller woman, “just research.”

Amélie put on a frown, but Sombra could see the amusement hiding in her eyes. “Perhaps you should ‘research’ what would happen if I used my grappling hook to haul you into bed at a decent hour.”

“Ooo,” Sombra cooed as she began to walk to the bedroom of their Tijuana safehouse, “that could be _exciting_.”

She could hear Amélie’s sigh and the sound of bare feet padding along the floor as she followed her lover to bed. “Somehow I am not surprised you would find a way to enjoy it.”

Pulling the violet t-shirt she’d been wearing over her head, Sombra tossed it into the laundry hamper before turning back to face the older woman with a little smirk. “Oh, you love it and you know it.”

Amélie gave a thoughtful hum, then reached out to push Sombra back onto the bed, making the mattress jostle before she followed with a more graceful lunge that ended with the former ballet dancer straddling the hacker’s hips. “Perhaps I do,” she admitted, “but I would not object to a reminder of why _._ ”

A few hours later, as her lover slept peacefully next to her, Sombra popped open the window she had hidden earlier. She hadn’t slept very much before she’d upgraded herself, and she needed even less sleep since. Might as well have a little fun.

After reading and getting a few ideas to try later – she had a feeling Amélie might enjoy several of those  – she happily clicked the **Kudos** button, then typed up a note to the author.

 **SpyderRyder** left the following comment on “ _The Widow’s Dog”_

This was really hot. I could almost watch it happening in front of me as I read! Can’t wait for your next one, Cav!

* * *

Emily smiled as she checked her email and noticed another positive comment. She’d freely admit it was weird, but she had fun writing these little smutty deals as a break from the more boring work, and somehow she wasn’t surprised that more than a few other women loved the idea of her girl and the _Femme Fatale_ together.

 _Besides,_ she thought with a little smile, _Lena may not_ _really_ _like her, but she certainly pays attention to how she looks in that catsuit when she tells me stories about their fights._

She’d noticed some time ago that her girl had a type, and it came with a weakness for taller women, long hair, and sexy accents.

“Fortunately,” Emily murmured to herself, “I’ve got all three.”

Grinning, she bent to her keyboard.

 **TheCavalrysQu33r** on “ _The Widow’s Dog”_

Glad to hear you enjoyed it so much, SR! Cheers!

She’d nearly wrapped up the last bit of the pump manuals. Maybe once the client had signed off and she’d gotten paid she could work on another little fic to pass the time.

In fact, if she was honest, _’Spider rider’_ gave her a few ideas…

_“…you have to be joking,” Tracer objected as she stared at the toy that Widowmaker was carefully inserting into herself, “there is no way.”_

_Widowmaker smirked, sliding the body of her new toy through the grommets at the center of the unbuckled harness’ crotch before drawing the straps to her body and snugging it into place. “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit,_ ma petite chou. _"_

_“But what about my accelerator?” Tracer tapped the faring of the device that was strapped to her body, then gestured to the straps that secured it against her legs. “It’ll get in the way.”_

_The sniper gave her lover a level look. “You know and I know that as long as you are in the same room, you don’t have to wear it_ all _of the time…and I want to see every last bit of you_. _"_

_“How…?” Tracer swallowed hard, looking down at the device even as she slowly loosened the straps that held it to her shoulders, arousal and anxiety flooding her mind in a potent cocktail._

_“How did you know?”_

_Widowmaker offered a throaty chuckle as she helped to loosen the rest of the accelerator’s fittings. “I have infra-red vision in my visor, and your accelerator leaves a very interesting signature.”_

_Tracer felt herself flush. “Watching me sleep, then?”_

“Mais, non _,” Widowmaker objected piously, “watching you shower is far more entertaining.”_

Emily grinned and saved her latest project, then went back to finishing those pump manuals.  Soon enough…

* * *

 

  * **TheCavalrysQu33r** has posted “ _Riding the Hourglass”_



Sombra’s eyes widened as she read the title of the latest installment in her guilty pleasure, her jaw dropping as she read the author’s note.

 _To_ **_SpyderRyder_** _, whoever you are, for giving me a little unintentional inspiration!_

“Oh, you _didn’t_ ,” Sombra gasped as she began to read, then let out a delighted laugh, “she _DID!_ She did! I can’t believe it!”

 **_“I’m sorry,”_ ** Reaper’s voice growled over the radio, **_“are we_ ** **_interrupting_ ** **_something? We’re only on a mission, I hate to be a_ ** **_bother_** ** _.”_ **

Sombra sighed, tucking the window away for later. “Oh, _whatever_ , Gabi. I can check my email while I hack this security grid. This thing is, like, six years old. I can do it with my eyes closed.”

Pausing, the hacker put one glowing fingertip to the mainframe she was sitting next to, then watched as the subsystems which had been locked down in red suddenly flipped to green as she gave herself complete admin access.

“There, _papi_ , I’ve got a danish and I’ve switched all the camera feeds to archived footage. Keepalives to the main Talon network have all been diked out and nobody will know we’ve hit them until it’s too late.”

**_“Finally…I’m breaching the executive level. Keep the alarms quiet while you pull anything useful out of the mainframe. Widow…”_ **

“ _I have you both covered. No sign of anyone else nearby.”_

“You know, doublecrossing Talon is way more fun since we started bringing you along, _vida_ ”

Despite Amélie not responding over the radio, Sombra had no trouble imagining the way the sniper was scoffing from the rooftop she’d positioned herself on. It was true, though! Once they’d learned Amélie had been working her way free from the shackles Talon had placed on her so long ago, they’d happily brought her into ‘ **the counter conspiracy** ’, as Gabi so overdramatically put it, no longer having to hide their real plans from her.

They got a gifted sniper and incredibly patient and observant partner to help make sure their plans went off smoothly, and Amélie got revenge for everything that had been done to her, along with a helping of payback for Gérard. Even if it hadn’t eventually lead to Sombra getting the Widowmaker into her bed, it would have been a great development. The rest was icing on the cake.

Sombra had just finished grabbing copies of everything Talon had kept in this facility’s data vault when the sound of shotgun blasts came over the radio.

**_“Targets have been neutralized. Ready for extraction, Sombra?”_ **

Sombra closed her eyes for a moment, activating her translocator beacon and disappearing from the server room in a shimmer of purple light. When she reappeared on the short range teleporter’s pad, she fought the usual wave of nausea and knelt to pick the device up, folding it back into her coat before heading for the exit she’d prepared earlier. “Already on my way.”

Later, as Gabriel worked on cooking their dinner and Amélie cleaned and serviced all of her equipment out of long ingrained habit, Sombra ran data mining tools on the files they’d removed from the now defunct Talon operations center, tracking their progress in one window while she read the latest Cav fic in another.

The story had been up to the author’s usual high standards, but something in the comments thread unexpectedly caught her attention.

 **Sh0eboxNinja** on _“Riding the Hourglass”_

Don’t get me wrong, this was really good, but Tracer being able to take her accelerator off and put it next to the bed seems a bit farfetched. Isn’t her whole deal that the gizmo is keeping her from disappearing?

 **TheCavalrysQu33r** on _“Riding the Hourglass”_

Well, she has to be able to take it off to change clothes. Or take a shower. ( _Edited Reply @ 16:13:11 GMT)_

“Why would you need to edit that, Cav? Makes perfect sense to me…” Her curiosity piqued, the hacker used a couple of tricks with timestamps and cached sites to find the original reply.

_No, she can take it off. How do you think she changes her clothes? ;) It has to stay in the same room, especially if it needs recharged, but the accelerator is a life preserver, not a death sentence._

Sombra raised an eyebrow. “You seem to know quite a bit about how it works, don’t you...?”

She’d already known those facts, but she’d needed to hack into Winston’s original design notes on the Chronal Accelerator to get most of that information. In fact, that bit about the IR signature was true, too. She hadn’t even _thought_ about it because Amélie had mentioned it once. But how could someone writing _fanfic_ know that?

_Wait._

Suddenly pieces of information she’d never bothered to piece together snapped into place.

She didn’t stalk Cav, really, but she’d been reading the author’s fics for a while, and had a very secret tumblr that was ONLY used for following her and a few other so called ‘SpiderTime’ RPF writers and artists. ( _Dumb_ ship name. WidowTracer made much more sense, but she’d come along too late in the game to convince people to change over.)

That meant she knew a few things about Cav. She hadn’t considered them before, but when she did...they lined up to create an interesting picture.

  * Female.
  * Queer.
  * Occasionally puts up pictures of coffee and tea shops in London on her Tumblr to let people know that she’s writing.
  * Goes quiet for intermittent periods.
  * Has a decent knowledge of most Overwatch members’ weapons and equipment, getting more detailed when discussing Tracer or when dealing with Widowmaker.



Could she have stumbled onto the _real_ Tracer writing her own self-insert fics? That was _crazy_ but it would be hilarious if it was true. Having to fly around with Overwatch would certainly explain Cav’s periodic absences, most of which were usually followed by a burst of new updates.

It all fit together surprisingly well.

It was pretty simple to wind through the Archive’s logs to find the IP address Cav normally accessed the site from, and a few minutes later Sombra had finished burning a zero-day to get access into the writer’s computer.

Tempting as browsing the folders marked “WIP” and “Inspiration Pics” was, Sombra had to keep her eyes on the prize. Activating the laptop’s camera, Sombra felt a pang of disappointment when the window came up to reveal a redheaded woman who seemed to be about her own age, her pale skin covered in freckles, sitting in what looked like a little home office.

_So much for that theory…_

The woman (Cav, Sombra had to assume) turned around, talking to someone beyond the door, and to Sombra’s shock Tracer _walked into the room_ a moment later, smiling and saying something to the writer before giving her a heartfelt kiss.

_¿Que pedo?_

Cursing herself for not turning on the laptop’s microphone when she'd grabbed the camera, Sombra quickly corrected that mistake.

_“-do you feel like for supper, Em?”_

_“I’ve still got to finish this last article – the deadline is tomorrow morning.”_

_“Want me to order in?”_

_“As long as we’re not having curry for the third time this week…”_

_“OK, ok, pizza it is! Should I put the kettle on for you?”_

_“That’d be great.”_

_“Right, let me go take care of that, then. Love you!”_

Cav (“Em” apparently, maybe short for Emma? Emily?) blew a kiss at the retreating Overwatch agent’s back, then turned back to the screen, seemingly staring directly at Sombra as she went back to writing about – the rise of completely automated parking garage systems, apparently. Crazy.

Her favorite Tracer smut writer was Tracer’s _girlfriend._ No _wonder_ it was so hot.

 _How_ _interesting_ _._


	2. Chapter 2

Emily sighed as she finished revisions of her latest – _incredibly boring_ – freelance job.  If you’d asked her two weeks ago if there needed to be a manual for proper outdoor pool sanitation, let alone a six manual _series_ , she’d have said no, but editing and updating them to meet the latest standards from the Ministry of Health was going to cover their rent, plus a bit extra to play with, so she couldn’t complain too loudly.

Lena often brought in surprisingly good money from her adventuring, thanks to ‘honorariums’ or ‘grateful gifts from anonymous parties’ (many of whom just happened to be sending her checks drawn from His Majesty’s Foreign Office), but it wasn’t exactly what one would call _reliable_. The return of Overwatch had helped a bit with that, since Winston was getting funds from _somewhere_ that he could periodically disperse out to the recalled organization, but Emily still tended to be the one covering their bills.

Still, at least she managed to pick up enough well-paying work that funds were rarely an issue, and she’d had plenty of repeat clients.

Besides, if there happened to be something small she wanted a little extra money for, all she had to do was put a note on her not-so-professional persona’s Tumblr that she was taking commission work to arrange a very entertaining solution to that problem.

Looking around the coffee shop she’d decided to work from today to keep from getting too stir crazy, she debated pulling up a fresh sheet to start playing with a new ‘diversion’ after she picked up a fresh cup.

Well…perhaps a little look around on Tumblr for a few ideas wouldn’t hurt.

She’d just settled back down and logged into her **_TheCavalarysQu33r_ ** account when a new message notification popped up.

“Oh, hullo. Who’s this…?”

 

**Penumbra**

 

Hello, Cav.

I’m SpyderRyder – this is my supersecret shame tumblr. ;)

Oh, hello! How are you?

(ha!)

 

VERY good. I wanted to thank you for your little present!

:) I just had the idea and then it just sort of happened, really.

I was just thinking I may start working on something new. I was coming on to look for…

Inspiration. <.<

 

Oh, I _see._

Do you mind if I try to ‘inspire’ you?

Careful, I _do_ have a girlfriend.

 

A little cyber _could_ be fun, but that wasn’t what I meant, promise.

Besides, so do I. ;)

Well, then. :) Inspire away.

 

You write domme Widow beautifully…but what if she was more of a switch, sometimes?

...go on.

 

She takes orders from Talon _all. the. time_. Even though she’s not really part of Talon anymore there’s times she needs that direction. To give up control and just _be there_ for a little bit.

Who else would she trust for that?

Who indeed?

That’s a pretty hot idea, I must admit.

Though what do you mean ‘even though she’s not really part of Talon’?

Were you thinking she’s left by that point, or some kind of AU?

 

oh.

Yes, yeah, sorry, that’s what I meant.

Hmm.

I may just have to think about that. ;)

* * *

 Sitting back from her keyboard with a sigh, Sombra smacked her own forehead. Smooth, _chica_.  So smooth. Nearly drop one of your girlfriend’s biggest secrets to your new internet friend who happens to be dating the face of Overwatch. GREAT.

Though the jokes aside she’d bet Emily was _great_ at cybering, given how well she wrote sex scenes. How did she practice that? She couldn’t imagine Tracer being good at cyber, really. Girl just didn’t have the attention span. Maybe for phone sex, sure, but –

“Lunch is ready, _chérie._ ”

Sombra blinked, then turned around, realizing after a second that Amélie was standing behind her, and she was sitting here, working herself up thinking about (kind of, sort of, not _exactly_ ) cheating. Or maybe about Amé’s best enemy getting it on with her girlfriend. Perhaps a little of both. _Get it together, girl._ She stood, trying to keep her voice as even as she could.  “Oh, already?”

Amélie tilted her head slightly, thoughtfully narrowing her eyes. “Are you feeling all right? Have you run diagnostics on your implants lately? You seem…distracted.”

Sombra shook her head. “That’s not it, trust me. I’d get feedback letting me know there was a problem.” She stepped into the former dancer’s personal space so she could lightly kiss her cheek. “It’s sweet of you to ask, though.”

To her delight, a lavender blush rose on the older woman’s cheeks. “It just seemed unlike you, _ombre._ ”

“I’m all right, promise. I just started thinking about a few things…” Moving just a bit closer, she lightly stroked her hand down the exposed skin of Amélie’s back. “But they weren’t all bad.”

The sniper gave a little sigh, arching into the touch, her voice dropping to a murmur. “Gabriel is waiting for us…”

The hacker slid the fingers of her other hand into luxurious dark hair, bringing her lover’s head down to meet hers with no real resistance. “Gabi can wait a little longer, _mi cielo_.”

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there making out, but it must have been enough time for Gabriel to get grumpy.

 **“At least close the damn** **_door_** **, you two.”**

They disengaged and turned to see the revenant standing with his arms crossed, glowing red eyes burning with annoyance against his ashy grey skin. Sombra chuckled, giving that perfectly trained bottom one last squeeze before sauntering over. “Sorry, Gabi. Moment of uncontrollable passion.”

The former Blackwatch commander snorted as he turned to walk back to the kitchen.   **“Riiiiiiiight.** **_Dios mio_** **, you act like fucking** **_teenagers_** **.”**

“Oh, like there weren’t stories about you and Morrison back in the day,” Sombra scoffed, “what was the one where Jesse walked in on you two? ‘Training room D’?”

Gabriel’s annoyed growl promised he’d kick her ass when they went to spar later.

Totally worth it.

* * *

_Tracer gave her lover a searching look, considering her request._

_“Are you certain about this, luv? I won’t be upset if it’s too much right now.”_

_Widowmaker considered, then nodded. “I need this,_ chérie, _as much as I needed to have the control.”_

_The shorter woman turned, then opened the box she’d brought with her, taking out a deep blue collar that would complement the former assassin’s unusual skin tone. “I understand. Hold still.”_

_Widowmaker did as requested as Tracer placed the collar on her, carefully closing the clasp at the back, then secured it in place with a silver padlock that she could feel resting against her spine. Despite knowing that they were both otherwise naked, she suddenly felt far more exposed._

_Tracer gently ran a finger along her chin, and it felt as if the feather light touch left a line of burning fire in its wake. “You belong to me tonight. Is that clear?”_

_Widowmaker wanted to nod, but she had been told to remain still. She spoke in a hushed voice, careful to keep her head level. “_ Oui, mademoiselle.”

_Tracer’s face slowly transformed from the carefree woman she knew off the battlefield, but it was not to embrace the meek, submissive aspect of herself that she often assumed within their bedroom. Instead, her eyes flashed with the intensity of all her years as a combat pilot, a window into the iron will of a woman who had pulled herself back to reality after being set adrift through time itself._

_“Give me a safeword, pet."_

_Widowmaker considered her answer a moment. “_ En Pointe.”

 _Tracer nodded, committing it to her memory._ “ _And if I took your pretty mouth away?”_

 _“May I move,_ mademoiselle _?” It was implied, of course, that she could, but she had been given an order. She did not want punished for disobedience by assuming too much._

 _Well. Widowmaker did not want to be punished_ yet.

_Tracer’s lips turned up in a very slight smile of approval. “You may move, pet, but only to demonstrate. When you are finished you’ll return to this position.”_

_Widowmaker reached out and tapped two fingers against Tracer’s arm four times – light, strong, strong, light – then returned to a standing at ease position, arms against her sides._

_“Very good, pet.” Tracer’s quiet approval sent a thrill up Widowmaker’s spine, and it took an effort to keep her breathing even. The Overwatch agent carefully circled her former enemy, making a full circuit before stopping behind her._

_“You’re a very good sniper, aren’t you, pet?”_

_“_ Oui, mademoiselle.”

_“Takes good eyes for that, doesn’t it?”_

_“It does,_ mademoiselle.”

_“Would you say that sight is the sense you depend on most, pet?”_

“Oui, mademoiselle.”

_There was a rustle, and a moment later thick dark fabric was being drawn tightly over Widowmaker’s eyes._

_“Then that is the one we’ll be taking away.”_

Emily sat at her desk and considered what she’d be doing next.

The idea was great, the beginning was easy, and she had some ideas about the aftercare…it was just the middle bit that got tricky.

Of course…there was always research.

She checked the clock on her wall. _Oh, perfect timing._

The sound of keys in the lock brought the redhead out of her chair, heading to meet Lena as she came in the door. “Hello, beautiful!”

Lena grinned. “Hello yourself, gorgeous.” There was a flash of light, and suddenly Lena was right in front of her, a little puff of displaced air making Emily’s hair ruffle as they came together in a kiss.

“Teleporting to make sure you can kiss me before I kiss you is cheating, you know.”

After breaking from another kiss, Lena laughed, her hands snug around her girlfriend’s hips.

“You sure about that? I’m pretty sure I never read that rule.”

“Hmmm…fairly sure,” Emily teased, “it’s too bad, really. I _was_ just about to ask for your help with something.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, her voice deceptively innocent. “Were you?”

“Oh, yes,” Emily confirmed as she ran a finger along the neckline of her lover’s shirt, “something I think you would have enjoyed quite a bit. But since you decided to break the rules…”

“Well,” Lena confessed, “maybe I cheated a _little_.”

“I think you did,” Emily agreed, “but I suppose I can forgive you.”

Lena grinned. “So…what did you need my help with, then?”

“Well,” Emily gently slipped from the embrace, “I’m working on a commissioned piece for someone who wants…well. Call it something _erotic._ ”

Lena grinned as she followed back to the bedroom. “Oh _really_ …”

“Mm,” Emily confirmed, “and they had a couple of specific requests. I could use my imagination about how they worked, but there’s always something to be said for _hands on research._ ”

When she turned around, Lena was already unbuckling the accelerator.

* * *

 

_Widowmaker’s body was deliciously still as she rested on the bed, the heavy blindfold still obscuring her vision, the leather of her collar a comforting assurance._

_Every part of her body that Tracer had marked, tickled, tasted, or teased still offered echoes of each contact. She felt more aware of the scents of sex and sweat than she had even been before, mixed with the aromas of the cooling candle wax and smoke._

_The sound and feel of the mattress shifting as Tracer settled back down next to her was a fascinating sequence, and the warmth of the younger woman’s touch against her skin felt like a slowly spreading fire._

_The Englishwoman’s voice rang in her ears, rich with satisfaction. “You were wonderful, pet. Did you enjoy yourself?”_

_Widowmaker let out a pleased sigh as Tracer’s fingers began to slowly stroke her forehead and card through her hair. “_ Oui, mademoiselle. _I enjoyed that very much.”_

_She couldn’t see her lover’s smile, but it was very easy to imagine how Tracer must have looked when she spoke again. “Good. Lift up your head, pet.”_

_Widowmaker complied with the command, and felt Tracer carefully removing the blindfold. She slowly opened her eyes, letting herself adjust to the bedroom’s dimmed lights._

_“Such a good girl,” Tracer murmured as she resumed her gentle strokes, “you did so well.” After a few more strokes, her hand came to gently rest against the collar. “Are you ready for me to release you, pet?”_

_Widowmaker considered that question, then shook her head._

_“Not yet,” she looked up, meeting Tracer’s eyes with her own, “may I leave it on until the morning, mademoiselle?”_

_Tracer lay down, her answer coming in a gentle kiss to the forehead. “Of course, pet. As long as you need.”_

_Widowmaker closed her eyes and let her lover draw the covers up over them, the shorter woman somehow managing to make her feel completely secure as they curled into each other._

_Tomorrow she could be Widowmaker._

_Tonight she would just be hers._

* * *

 

  * **TheCavalrysQu33r** has posted _“Let Go.”_



**LemonLimey** on _“Let Go”_

First of all, HOW DARE YOU

(That was SO HOT and then the aftercare was so sweet and tender and OMG Cav)

 

 **Black_Sunbeams** on _“Let Go”_

I DID NOT EVEN KNOW THIS WAS A THING I NEEDED BUT IT WAS

 

 **Sh0eboxNinja** on _“Let Go”_

I really didn’t know how I would feel about Tracer taking the lead and Widowmaker subbing but wow. Wowwwww.

 

Sombra read through Cav –  through _Emily’s_ – latest fic, and couldn’t help whistle as she went. “ _Damn_ , _chica…_ you took that little idea and ran with it, didn’t you?”

That ending had tugged at her heartstrings too, she had to admit. Amélie didn’t exactly ask Sombra to collar her to allow herself to let go and relax, but it wasn’t easy for her to give up control – and Sombra understood why.

After losing so much control of her mind, her body, her _life_ …she craved the control, now.  But she still needed a release, now and then.

Sombra knew that feeling all too well.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she flicked her fingers up, her virtual interface coming to life in midair.

**_COMM - > SECUREPHONE -> AMELIE_ **

There was a warbling beep as the bounced and scrambled communication connected to the sniper’s line, a moment of static as the encryption hashes synced up, and then her lover’s voice.

_-Sombra?_

“Hey there. How’s the job going?”

- _Well enough. Gabriel’s contacts were able to give us a time and location for the meet. We’ll take care of both sides and retrieve the weapon. As long as we do not have to deal with any excessive interference, we should be on our way by tomorrow night._

“Good to hear. How are _you_ doing, _mi cielo_?”

She could practically hear the shrug from the other end of the line.

_-Hong Kong is pretty at night, but crowded. Noisy. I prefer someplace quieter…particularly if I am with you._

Sombra felt her cheeks heat a bit.

“I miss you, too,” she admitted, “I’ve been keeping myself busy, but it would be nice to have a little time alone.”

_-Paris is lovely this time of year. It’s been some time since I visited._

Sombra grinned. “Asking me to join you on a romantic getaway?”

_-If you like._

“I think I’d like that a lot, Amé.”

- _Start working on the travel arrangements, then, and I will think of a few places to show you._

She was already pulling up flights and hotels to review for best options. “Deal.”

_-I need to go – and you should sleep, Ombre._

“You know I don’t need that much.”

- _I know you tell yourself that. Go to bed,_ mon amour _._

Sombra chuckled as she stood. “OK, OK, if you _insist_.”

- _Adieu, chérie._

“ _Hasta pronto, mi sol._ ”


	3. Chapter 3

**TheCavalarysQu33r**

 

Hey, Cav

 

Hullo, SR. :D

What are you up to?

I just had a thought.

The fic that was ‘inspired’ by my nickname.

Yes…?

‘Top of The Hour’ might have worked as a better title.

That...

Is absolutely true. Damn!

;)

While we’re talking, I actually had been meaning to ask – would you like to do some Beta reading for me?

No worries if you don’t. I just thought you might like a look behind the curtain since we keep chatting on and off.

And you keep giving me such terrible (lovely) ideas. ;)

 

I just have a healthy imagination.

You have the filthy mind. ;)

But sure, I would love to!

Right, then! Send me your email and I’ll get it sorted.

SpyderRyder52@gmail will work.

 

Sombra stared at the chat window that hovered above her fingertips. She ought to feel thrilled about this. On a personal level, it was a chance to see Cav’s – _Emily_ ’s – work before anyone else! On a professional level, she’d basically just converted Tracer’s girlfriend into an unwitting intelligence asset, who she could gently prod with questions or mine data from her storytelling to get a better feel for what Tracer liked, where she _lived_ , what she did on her free time, maybe even to track her movements to and from Overwatch missions. That was priceless data, an instant win.

So why did she feel like she’d just swallowed a rock?

_You know damn well why._

She sighed. “First rule: Don’t make friends.”

**“Yeah,”** Gabriel’s voice suddenly came from behind her and Sombra had to resist the urge to jump in her seat, **“you’re doing great with that. What with dating Ami and all.”**

Sombra groaned as she turned in her chair. “What crawled up _your_ ass, Gabi?”

**“Nanites,”** the Reaper deadpanned, **“billions of them.”**

She couldn’t help but laugh – that was so unexpected and it went a long way towards easing her mind, at least for now. “That was pretty good.”

**“Thank you, I’m so glad you approve.”** Gesturing towards the door, he turned and began to walk. **“Come on. We’ve got a job.”**

* * *

****Emily stared at the blank page that just sat on her screen, taunting her.

15,000 words on _tractor repair_. She had all the references. She had the format. She had so many pictures of tractor parts that she could probably _build_ one at this point, and yet…

Groaning, she slumped in her chair.

“Lenaaaaaa…”

Her girlfriend leaned into the office, eyebrows raised. “Mm?”

Emily waved at the screen, wiggling her fingers at the blank page. “Brain no make words good.”

“Ahhh.” Lena stepped inside, coming up behind her office chair and started lightly rubbing and scratching at the redhead’s scalp. “Got a gummed up thinky-box, huh?”

“Mmhmmm,” Emily sighed happily as her head lolled forward, “keep doing that, please. See if you can get me unstuck.”

“You _could_ take a break.” Lena kept up with her attentions, leaning around the back of the chair to put a kiss on the base of Emily’s neck. “Maybe come watch a show or something?”

Emily had to admit she was tempted. “Deadline for this is Wednesday…”

“You’ve got a few days, then.” The vigilante’s fingers moved down to start gently rubbing at her lover’s neck. “C’mon, luv...just for a little bit.” Smirking, Lena leaned in until her lips were just behind Emily’s ear. “Maybe I could try helping you get ‘unstuck’ a few other places…”

Emily bit her lip with a little groan. “You are _terrible_ …”

Lena grinned as she gave her neck one last little squeeze. “Aww, you love me, though…”

Standing, Emily turned and put her hands around the shorter woman’s waist. “I do, I do…” She leaned in for a kiss, then let Lena lead her out towards the living room. “You’re still terrible, though.”

“It’s a fair cop,” Lena admitted as she settled on the couch, “So…” She looked over, her eyes full of feigned innocence. “We could see what’s on the TV.”

Emily sat down next to her, playing her part to the hilt. “We could,” she admitted dryly, “but we won’t.”

Lena grinned. “I guess that just leaves the ‘or something’, then.”

Emily’s response didn’t need any words, and by the time they’d finished, she was feeling _very_ unstuck, even if she still didn’t really feel like writing a damn thing about tractors.

“I have to ask,” Lena murmured as she traced little lines between the freckles on Emily’s belly with a fingertip, “what you do when you get writer’s block and I’m _not_ home…?”

Emily gave a happy little sigh under her lover’s touch, closing her eyes and smiling as she enjoyed the moment. “Usually? Try working on something else, but this is the only paying work I’ve got this week, and I didn’t want to try taking on another job if it meant I might miss a deadline.”

“Oh.” Lena put a little kiss just above the redhead’s belly button, getting a perfect little squeak out of her in response. “Here I was thinking you might just try something closer to this method…”

Emily snorted as she reached out to ruffle the brunette’s unruly hair. “We can’t _all_ be insatiable, you know.”

_Still_ , she thought with a little smile, _that does give me an idea for something else…_

* * *

_Tracer entered the safehouse, put away her weapons, and made herself a little dinner before venturing up to the bedroom._

_She already knew there would be a package there, waiting for her._

_On the one hand, she ought to be quite frightened of the implications of her lover (who was, after all, still technically a wanted killer and mercenary, even if she wasn’t directly involved with a terrorist organization) knowing how to find her even while she was undercover. It implied that Overwatch’s movements and communications may have been compromised by someone, at the very least._

_Probably that hacker who’d been giving them such merry hell since she’d started showing up on the periphery of Reaper’s appearances, if Tracer had to make a bet..._

_And yet it was never used to harm anyone. Never used to compromise a safehouse or tip off Talon, INTERPOL, or anyone else who might be interested in collaring a few members of the ‘unauthorized vigilante group.’_

_Just to deliver these little packages, to let Tracer know that her love was thinking of her even when they couldn’t arrange for a clandestine rendezvous._

_After she’d eaten, hung up her accelerator in the bathroom while she showered, and finally placed it next to the bed to recharge, Tracer opened the parcel that had been left at the foot of the bed, wrapped in glossy black paper._

_“Ooo...hullo there.”_

_Headphones - really bloody expensive ones, if she recalled correctly, the kind with an internal memory you could load with your own music if you didn’t feel like syncing them to anything else. A bottle of lavender scented lube. A glass toy, beautifully blown in a very familiar shade of blue that darkened to almost black at the base._

_“Not too hard to figure_ this _out…”_

_Turning down the bedspread and top sheet, she put the toy and lube on the nightstand, in easy reach, then fluffed up the pillows before getting comfortable and placing the headphones on, flicking the power switch once she had them settled over her ears, a familiar voice coming on a moment later._

_“_ Bonjour, ma chérie. _I hope you had a pleasant dinner. I thought we could...mmm...try something a little different tonight. I know you always put my little gifts to good use, but I thought it might be entertaining to...hm…” Widowmaker’s sultry laugh made a little shiver of anticipation run through her, hanging on every word when the sniper spoke again. “Well. Shall we say I will be giving you some instructions,_ ma petite chienne? _"_

Tracer lightly ran her tongue over her lips, her mouth suddenly quite dry.

“ _Don’t worry. I promise you will enjoy what I have planned...so long as you do_ exactly _as I say.”_

* * *

  **“Sombra,** **_”_ ** Reaper growled over the comm, **“You said the package was supposed to be in box 4281.”**

“Yeah,” the hacker confirmed as she verified the files she’d pulled from the bank’s mainframe before Reaper and Widowmaker had breached the vault.

**“It’s empty.”**

“ _¡¿Que pedo?!_ That’s not possible. Everything Talon provided – _and_ the data I stole – says the package should be in that box.”

**“Yeah, well, take a fuckin’ sip, babes, because there’s** **_nothing in the damn box_** **.”**

Sombra could practically hear Widowmaker rolling her eyes as she spoke. “ _Nobody talks like that any more, Gabriel.”_

**“I think the** **_box being empty_ ** **is a bigger problem right now,** **Amélie** ** _._** **”**

Sombra was punching her way through the bank’s data systems, trying to find out what the hell was going on. “Look, cool it, both of you – I’m checking to see if someone modified the contents for any reason, and cross referencing the vault’s access logs to see if someone pulled a bait and switch. Just calm down and I’ll keep an eye on the security feeds to make sure nobody else comes along.”

**“You’ve got five minutes. If you can’t get us anything by that point, we’ll be at risk of blowing the timetable.”**

“So shut up and _let me work_ , Gabi! I’ll let you know as soon as I find something.”

**“You had** **_better_** **.”**

_“¡Chingate!”_ Yanking out her earbud – she didn’t need to hear his reply when she could see him looking up to flip off the vault’s camera – Sombra sent a mental command to open a timer in a subwindow set for three minutes, thirty seconds. No reason to cut things _too_ close, after all.

She was about forty five seconds into her frantic search for data when a totally different notification window popped up at the corner of her eye.

**_JOI de Vivre_** – **Invitation to Edit:** _Cav Qu33r has invited you to edit the following document: JOI de Vivre (WIP)_

“Well,” she muttered, “at least there’s _one thing going right today…”_

* * *

_"I_ _can just imagine how you look right now,_ ma petite chou _. So delicious...that pretty ass of yours in the air for me. I wish I could be there to taste you.”_

_Tracer moaned into the pillow, the slick and sticky toy bumping against her calf as she held herself up on her knees and one elbow, her other hand between her thighs._

_“You must be_ very _close by now,_ chérie. _I know that I am_ …”

_Even though she knew no one else was in the safehouse to hear, Tracer bit her lip to muffle her cry, the pain distracting her from her aching need for release, but also adding a little more kindling to the fire that felt like it was going to consume her from within._

_“Put your fingers to your clit for me. You like it when I squeeze just a little, don’t you? Mmm. Yes, I know you do. You like this...mmm..._ plus vite... _a little more...ohhh…”_

_Widowmaker’s breath hitched in her ears and Tracer whimpered, her hips bucking, talking to her lover, part of her forgetting that she was alone, the rest of her not caring. “Oh, fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m so_ close _please luv, please let me_ come ... _”_

_Perhaps her lover knew Tracer well enough to know she’d be begging. Perhaps she’d imagined this, too, as she fantasized and recorded this for her._

_“Put your fingers to your pink little petals...ahhh...you’re so wet for me, aren’t you? I know you will be...mm...I want to feel you...go in just like I would. Yes..._ merde... _I want to hear you...I want you to tell me just how I feel when I’m fucking you...how it would feel if I was there…”_

_“So good...you feel so good, luv...you’re so deep in me...I want you here...I want you_ here _…”_

_She was nearly there, her fingers slipping in and out of herself as she tried to keep the pace that she knew her lover would use._

_“A little harder now...yes..._ plus vite... _don’t stop. Don’t stop. Don’t...Stop! Ahh!_ Venir pour moi!!”

_Widowmaker’s voice dropped into a growl as Tracer ground down against herself, then rose into a cry that filled her ears as she finally reached her peak, her whole body going taut, then crashing down to the bed with a ragged gasp, her fingers sliding back to tease at her clit so she could ride the aftershocks that ran through her with a little groan._

_“I hope that was as good for you as it was for me,_ chérie.” _Satisfaction dripped from every word as Widowmaker purred in her ears. “You made such a mess...I wish I had you here to clean me up.”_

_Tracer rolled onto her back with a sigh. “Oh, you an’ me both…"_

_“Thank you for the wonderful evening,_ ma douce. _Keep the headphones - and bring your new toy with you, next time we meet.”_

_“Yes, please,” Tracer yummed as she imagined the chance to return this lovely favor, “thanks, luv. I know you can’t hear me, but g’night, gorgeous…”_

“Bonne nuit, mon amour…”

_Tracer laughed softly as she put the toy on the nightstand to clean off and pack away later, and pulled the bedsheet up over herself. They’d gotten to know each other so well._

* * *

**Penumbra**

You have. No idea. How much. I needed that.

Ooh. Hopefully it was worth the wait?

Oh, yeah.

My last couple of days at work have been _shit_ and this was just what I needed.

Glad to help, then. :D

 

Emily smiled at the chat window before closing it, then went back to the tractor manual. She’d finally gotten stuck in and was nearly finished with the first draft. With a little luck she could have this sent off to the editor with time to spare before deadline, and get things wrapped up.

After that...well. Maybe she’d refine that little bit of fun a bit more.

She’d been about to close out and go see what Lena wanted for dinner when the chat window popped up again to get her attention.

 

**Penumbra**

Hey, Cav?

 

Hullo! What’s up?

I’ve been thinking about something since we started talking more often.

I need to come clean to you about something.  


Oh dear. I hope it’s not the part about having a girlfriend.  


Hah. No, I have a girlfriend.

As a matter of fact my girl and your girl know each other pretty well.

 

Emily blinked, her blood suddenly running cold. What on _earth_ …

“How do _you_ know who my girl is, Spyder?”

To her shock, her computer _answered_ the rhetorical question with a warm voice that held just the trace of an accent.

“It may be easier if I just show you.”

Emily’s eyes flicked up to the laptop’s webcam - yes, the transmitting light had come on - and a moment later a video chat window opened, showing a caramel skinned woman - not so far off her own age, if she had to guess - with dramatically cut and styled hair that faded from black to purple to grey on one side, and an intricately shaved pattern close to her scalp on the other, her eyes a striking shade of blue that was nearly a violet.

She seemed...oddly familiar, and after a moment Emily realized they’d never met, but she’d heard this woman described more than a few times. _“Oh my god._ You’re _her_ , aren’t you? The hacker that Lena keeps talking about working with Widowmaker and Talon?”

The hacker’s face dropped in an almost comical look of disappointment. “Man, so much for my dramatic reveal, _canelo._ But...yeah, ahh...hi.”

“Is...was this some kind of a _joke?_ A trap?” This woman _knew who she was_ . She’d hacked her computer like it was nothing. _She knew where they lived_. “I don’t know what you want from me but I promise Lena won’t –”

“ _No, no no no, shh!_ ” The hacker interrupted, leaning in towards whatever was picking up her video as her voice dropped almost into a whispered hiss. “It’s not like that, I _swear_ . I didn’t _know_ before. I just...I like your stories. I…” She hesitated, looking away, then looked back at the camera with a crooked little smile. “…do you remember when I said your girlfriend knows my girlfriend?”

Emily’s jaw dropped. “ _No._ ”

“Heh. Yeaaaah. So...anyway.” The hacker waved at herself with a hand that was glowing with faint purple light. “I...I realized who you were a little while ago. At first I thought you might actually _be_ Tracer. And I got curious, so I wanted to know more. But I’ve been feeling kinda guilty about sneaking around like that, the more I got to know you.”

Emily couldn’t help but snort. “That must be a first for you.”

The hacker grinned. “Listen to the mouth on you, _chica_.”

“You hacked into my computer and were originally planning to spy on my girlfriend,” Emily pointed out, “I think I’ve earned the right to some sass.”

“Yeah, well…” The hacker shrugged, conceding the point. “OK, you got me there. But at least I’m telling you now.”

“I suppose,” Emily admitted, “yes. So what _do_ you want, then?”

“Mostly to keep reading – seriously, your stuff is _hot_ – maybe keep talking? Believe it or not, I’m not exactly a bad guy. Neither of us are. We’re just...doing things our own way. Your girl has probably noticed Talon is having a few problems here and there. It’s amazing what you can cover up when a giant gorilla is knocking down the front door.”

Emily felt gobsmacked. She couldn’t have _written_ something this crazy and gotten away with it. “I...seriously?”

“Seriously,” the hacker confirmed, “and well, I like having friends. I don’t get to make very many – not real ones.”

Emily sat in her chair for a solid minute trying to take it all in. “This is _mental_ , you know.”

The hacker grinned. “It’s a pretty _loco_ world, when you get down to it.”

“I suppose it is,” Emily sighed, then looked up at the screen again, “so I have to ask...as far as ah...details...how’d I do?”

_That_ drew a saucy smirk. “You asking me to kiss and tell, Cav?”

“You’re very pretty,” Emily fenced back, “but you’re not _that_ pretty. One at a time for me, thanks.”

The hacker laughed, spinning around in her chair. “Oh, that’s _nice_. You’re funny, too!”

The redhead pretended to buff her fingernails against her t-shirt. “I have my moments.”

The hacker smiled back at her. “I tell you what – I’m gonna be in London in a few days. Nothing bad, I promise, just getting some legwork done. You pick a spot for coffee and we’ll...trade notes.”

Emily considered that, then raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that if you can get into my computer, you probably already have the number to my mobile?”

She at least had the grace to look a little embarrassed at being called out. “Ahhh...well, yeah. Maybe.”

Emily nodded. “Right. Text me when you get to town, then, and I’ll give you a time and place.” She couldn’t help but grin. “Really, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“It’s a date, then,” the hacker quipped, “Oh...and the name is Sombra, by the way. See you soon, Emily.” She winked, then tapped the camera. “Boop!”

The video call closed and a moment later Emily’s desktop had returned to normal, aside from a glowing purple note file: _I’ll close my backdoor on the way out. -S._

“...well.” Emily stared at the screen for a moment,  then shook her head in disbelief. “That just happened.”

She didn’t bother trying to go back to writing for the rest of the day. What could _possibly_ top that?

* * *

Lena stretched as she got out of the cab, her back popping a bit after four hours flying home and then almost another hour riding out from Heathrow thanks to a wreck on the M25. (Half the cars could _fly_ these days and yet it was _always_ the bloody M25.) Could have taken the tube, sure, but honestly she mostly wanted to just get home and snuggle with as little contact with people as possible.

She’d almost made it to the door of their building when her phone buzzed.

_~Emily~_

_Hello gorgeous._

_Are you nearly home?_

_I went down to Cafe Brioso to meet an internet friend for coffee._

Just about to walk in the door!

Hang on, I’ll meet you there and we can walk home when you’re done?

_Sounds lovely._

_Should I order you anything?_

Nah, I’ll take care of it when I get there. :)

_See you soon!_

* * *

 It was a short enough walk that she decided to leg it rather than call another cab, but as she approached the cafe, Lena frowned as she noticed a glint of light from the rooftop on the other side of the street. Almost like the reflection from... _wait._

She _knew_ that silhouette.

In heartbeats, she was leaping from the top of a fire escape up to the roof, and then bounced to the building where, yes, Widowmaker was standing, wearing a coat over her ridiculous getup but still wearing that visor thingy, her rifle sitting beside her.

Lena put on her best Tracer voice as she drew her pistols from the holsters in her vambraces, keeping her voice bright and her grin cocky despite the fear she was feeling about Widowmaker almost certainly drawing a bead on the cafe where Emily waited unawares. “Hullo, luv. Fancy seeing you here.”

To her surprise, the assassin did _not_ immediately grab her gun and start jumping about, or launch a venom mine at her to help cover an evasion.

She just….waved.

“ _Bonjour_ , annoyance.”

Lena blinked, lowering her pistols so they weren’t pointed directly at Widowmaker’s center of mass.  “...ok, did someone change the script when I wasn’t looking?”

Widowmaker shrugged. “I’m not here to work today. I have a…” To Lena’s surprise the Frenchwoman actually _blushed_ slightly, her cheeks going a shade of lavender. “A friend. She said she wanted to grab coffee with someone she knows here in the city.”

“Huh…” Letting her pistols snap back into the holsters, she crossed to look down into the cafe window. “Emily said she was meeting a friend for coffee too.” Squinting as she tried to focus, she thought she could just make out Emily’s brilliant red hair. “Don’t suppose I could borrow that scope of yours?”

Somewhat surprisingly, Widowmaker actually handed over her gun – which, as she handled it, Lena realized was unloaded.

“Thanks, luv.” Bringing the scope to her eye, Lena’s jaw dropped once she had Emily’s table in focus. “I...is that _Sombra_?” The hacker was wearing stylish looking leggings, a black turtleneck to protect her against the London chill, and a purple and pink coat that hung loose off her shoulders, a coffee in one hand as she talked to Emily. And…were they _laughing?_

She handed the rifle back, unable to process things for a moment before she spoke again. “Why is _Sombra_ having coffee with my girlfriend?”

Widowmaker’s eyes widened in surprise, confusion in her voice. “Why is _my_ girlfriend having coffee with _your_ girlfriend?”

Lena blinked. “Wait, really? You pulled her, then?”

“It...was a bit of both,” Widowmaker admitted, then shook her head, “why am I telling you that?”

“One of those faces, I guess,” Lena grinned, “seriously, though, good for you. Top work!” She looked back down at the cafe and shook her head. “...this is weird. How do they even _know_ each other?”

Widowmaker just shrugged.

“Right,” Lena shook her head with a laugh, “so...tell you what – have you got a bag or a case or something you can tuck your ghost load in?”

“...I have no idea what you just said.”

“The rifle? Your gun? Can’t just walk into Brioso with that thing swinging about, they’ll have the Filth in there in no time.”

“Ah.” Widowmaker shook her head. “I left it at the hotel.”

“That’s no good,” Lena observed, “tell ya what, then. What if you leave your rifle up here, and I leave my pistols. You tuck that visor of yours in a pocket, and we go down there and get a cuppa or something while we wait...and then we ask them what the _hell_ is going on?”

The Frenchwoman considered that, then nodded, setting her gun down, and Lena worked to snap open her vambraces so she could place them where they wouldn’t be easily noticed.

Lena couldn’t _wait_ to hear the story behind _this…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the "proper" story - expect a few omakes / outtakes soon! Hope everyone enjoyed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of these are _actually_ what happened. Or rather, each of them _could_ be. 
> 
> Take your pick. :)

Lena stared incredulously at Emily, the cup of tea in front of her completely forgotten. "Wait. So you've been writing porn in your spare time?"

Emily coughed, still a bit flushed with shock from realizing Lena had somehow managed to run into Widowmaker and brought her into the coffee shop. "...well. Yes."

Lena worried at her lip for a moment as she took that on board, then pointed to her own chest. "About me."

Emily tilted her head a bit before she finally nodded. “Yes."

Lena gestured over to where Widowmaker sat beside Sombra. "And her. The porn you’re writing is about _me and her.”_

Emily tried to hide her increasing panic behind a sip of her coffee. "Mmmhm."

Widowmaker broke in, giving Sombra a sidelong look. "And you have been helping her, _chérie?"_

The hacker shrugged, rubbing her fingers over the shaven side of her head. "Well. I've been providing some feedback lately. A couple of suggestions..."

The table went silent for the better part of a minute while Lena looked between the writer and the hacker, obviously trying to process it all before she finally spoke again."...I cannot decide if I am incredibly angry or incredibly turned on right now."

Widowmaker crossed her arms over her chest with an odd expression that Lena could only call an amused glower. "I am both."

* * *

Lena was flabbergasted as she took Emily’s explanation of how she had apparently become Best Internet Friends with Sombra of all people on board. "Didn't we have an entire conversation about 'don't kiss the spider' once?"

Emily groaned as she put her head in her hands. "I...have a very active imagination."

Lena wasn’t letting her off the hook that easily. "So you _do_ want me to kiss the spider."

Emily lifted her head just enough look at both of her favorite writing subjects, Lena clearly warring between ‘really amused and really pissed off’ and Widowmaker’s face as cooly impassive as she’d always imagined it must be from Lena’s descriptions. A glass mask that Sombra had confirmed could very easily be lifted - or shattered - by the right kind of approach. The more she went down that line of thought, the more she could feel her cheeks heating back up, and she let her head fall back into her hands. "...kindofyessortofitwouldbe _REALLY_ hot"

Widowmaker gave the writer and her best enemy a glare. "...I am sitting right here."

Sombra winked at the sniper, putting her hand on her girlfriend’s shoulder. "Oh, like you haven't thought about it at least once or twice."

Widowmaker’s cheeks turned a rather interesting lavender shade as she looked away in a huff. "You are not helping, _ombre._ "

* * *

Lena sighed as she knelt down on the rooftop. “I think we’re busted, luv.”

Widowmaker nodded. “I suppose once Sombra began helping her this was inevitable.”

Lena gave a little ‘mm’ of agreement. “So...do we want to let them know we've been reading Em's stories this entire time?"

The sniper shook her head. "Absolutely not."

Lena gave her counterpart a thoughtful look. “How do you want to play this, then?”

Widowmaker gave her a wicked grin. “We go down there and make them both _squirm_.”

Lena laughed. “Alright, that works. Once we let them off the hook, do you think we should come clean about writing our own stories about Jack and Gabe?”

“ _Never_.”

* * *

Emily half walked, half staggered out onto the hotel room’s balcony with only a loosely belted bathrobe to preserve her modesty. This had certainly turned out to be a very interesting weekend, all things considered.

Settling into one of the patio chairs, she found herself wishing for a glass of wine while she watched some of the London air traffic buzz past - and maybe a cigarette.

She turned her head as the sliding door opened, waving to a similarly dressed Sombra as she stepped outside, noting that the hacker had very thoughtfully brought a bottle of wine - and two glasses.

Emily waved hello, then gestured to the empty chair beside her. “They’re still asleep?”

Sombra grinned. “After last night? I’d be impressed if either of them woke up before noon.”

Accepting a wine glass with a nod of thanks, Emily smiled as Sombra filled her glass. “Fair point.”

“So,” Sombra’s eyes danced with amusement as she took a sip from her own glass, “what happened to ‘One at a time for me’, huh?”

“Well…” Emily smiled lazily as she took a sip of her own. “This was more of a _collaboration_ , I suppose.”

Sombra raised her glass. “I guess I’ll drink to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is COMPLETELY me being on crack. No excuse. None. Somewhat inspired by a bunch of different art and tumblr jokes that went around after Emily was revealed in the "Reflections" comic and somewhat because I'm just a terrible person.


End file.
